


An Early Meeting

by Han502653



Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Female Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Canon, Zeetha's and the Jager's situation is very similar really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 14:27:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13320081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Han502653/pseuds/Han502653
Summary: Zeetha had been with the circus for two years, she’d been through Passholdt and Violetta has seen her show despite Zeetha joining after Tinka was stolen. All signs point to Zeetha having been to Mechanicsburg once before, and who’s to say she didn’t visit Mamma Gkika’s bar while there…Or, Zeetha and Mamma meet long before the story ever even starts.





	An Early Meeting

Mechanicsburg was weird.

Zeetha decided that late at night from her perch on an old fortification wall. Below her, close enough that she could do her job if trouble sparked, was the Circus putting on one last act for the night: The Heterodyne Boys Show.

Mechanicsburg was the home of the Heterodyne Boys, characters that until today had always been fictional to her. But people here had _known_ them. The older ones had even seen them grow up. This was the town they had left and never returned to.

Zeetha was surprised they had been allowed to perform at all, their shows weren’t exactly the most… thoughtful, though she guessed maybe eighteen years was long enough to grieve. None the less Master Payne had pained over the pre-production. More so than any other show before. From what she could gather there were some unsaid rules for performing a productive Heterodyne Boys show in Mechanicsburg, ones he had slowly learned from performing here many times.

Like the fact it was better Punch and Judy weren’t involved for whatever reason, but Klaus—the Baron was always a crowd favorite, especially if they were particularly heavy with the comic relief. Lucrezia, if she was in the show at all, was actually preferred to be a hammy villain instead of a story after she had joined the Boys despite having been Bill’s wife in reality. For that matter, as Master Payne had stumbled upon one year due to a sudden sickness, Barry _not_ having a love interest also seemed to be preferred despite it being all but a staple in one form or another. It was a very different play than what they performed anywhere else.

Even then though, the crowd was notably different from earlier.  She had performed one of her rare sword dances today. Olga having bribed her with as many free drinks as she wanted to get her into sitting still long enough so she could untangle her braid and get it cleaned. So she could easily tell that most of the people who had leered at her then were now gone. Almost everyone that was left seemed to be tourist instead of residents, and the residents that did exist seemed to be on the younger side. It was odd, but they were still making good money so Zeetha didn’t bother to care. That was Master Payne’s job.

The crowd clapped below as the actresses and actors took the stage for the final bow. Zeetha stood up from her position and stretched. Tomorrow was going to be busy: a day full of asking and hard-gripped hope. But tonight she was cashing in some free drinks conned from a conwoman.

 

They ended up at a place called Mamma Gkika’s. It was loud and rowdy, full more of tourists than anything else. The beer was good though and the prices were marked up reasonably and she couldn’t help but find herself vaguely bemused as she sipped at hers and watched her companions, a miscellaneous bunch from the Circus, get more and more sloshed. They had been drinking a mite bit faster than her, but even then many were well past gone. No tolerance, the lot of them.

“Heeeeeyy, you know, I heard this actually used to be the place where Jägers drank.” One of them nudged another, startling him from his, entirely noticeable, leer towards some of the waitresses.

He snorted and then blinked as the movement disoriented him. “No way, no way even here did people drink with them monsters.” He swayed a little. “Kept in cages or something.”

“Shut up, Kent,” Olga snapped from her place leaning against Zeetha’s shoulder. Her legs stretched out and comfortable, counting some money she had just conned from the tourists the table over. “Or you’ll get yourself killed.” She didn’t sound too concerned, but Zeetha expected that was more because Kent hadn’t exactly made himself a spot in the Circus than that she was exaggerating. Zeetha expected him to be out within the next few weeks, one way or another.

Zeetha ignored his sulk and leaned back to glance around the bar. There was little room to walk, especially around their table as people kept coming over to talk to them, but the serving staff got through with little effort. Despite large hats and grabby hands they expertly dodged except for when they expertly didn’t.

Olga had told her some about the Jäger before dragging her here, and seeing the popularity in the bar Zeetha had questioned why they had never had any in their shows.

Olga had frowned then, serious for a brief moment, her mask slipping.

“Honey, if we tried to have a show with Jägers in it any place but here we’d probably be banned, if not straight run out of town, _especially_ if they weren’t playing villain. Most places on our route still have people in them who remember them burning their towns.”

“Then why not have them in today’s show?”

Olga shrugged. “Payne tried that once apparently, back before I joined. It didn’t go bad but didn’t go well either. He got something wrong that he never managed to figure out so he doesn’t bother.” Olga rolled her eyes. “One thing this town is, it’s picky in the weirdest ways.”

Thinking back to her thoughts before Zeetha agreed. Still it seemed odd that the tourist bar had such good business, full of fake, albeit very well costumed— as good as the Circuses work, if not when Organza was trying her very best— Jäger. Then again, this town’s tourism seemed to run on subtle morbidity. And most of these tourists were unlikely to be from anywhere near easy reach of bored Heterodynes.

“Hey, hey, Zeetha,” a voice snapped her from her thoughts and Zeetha didn’t bother to hide her groan as she turned to stare at Osker. She was friends with Olga and Yeti, she respected Master Payne, Countess Marie, Embi, and Abner, but otherwise she was little more than distantly friendly and professional to anyone else. Except for a few that was; a few that more than anyone else caused her teeth to grate and her head to pound.

Osker was one of those.

She didn’t answer but Osker ignored her glare and took her glance as permission to continue. “Hey, hey, I was jus’ talkin’ to Kent here ‘bout good backstories. Tell yours again. He d’un know it.”

Zeetha’s lips thinned and she glanced back to her drink, not bothering to reply even as her chest felt heavy. Most of the Circus didn’t believe in Skifander, Zeetha even had doubts that Master Payne did though he more than anyone had tact, but few were so open about how they disbelieved than Osker and his pals.

“Oh, _c’mon_ , when are you goin’ to give it up, we all _know_ —”

“If you don’t shut up, this spoon here is going to make sure you never have to worry about using contraceptives ever again,” Olga hissed, waving said spoon. The drunken group they were with laughed as did Osker, never one to take anything seriously. Zeetha wondered if any of them knew how easily a drunken Olga would go through with her threat.

Zeetha chugged the last gulp of her drink. Olga was always quick to defend her. She appreciated it in theory but wished she wouldn’t. It never helped. She didn’t like the feeling she couldn’t protect herself. That she needed the help for something as dumb as words. She was beyond that.

With a sigh Zeetha pushed Olga forward a bit so she wouldn’t fall and stood. Olga glanced back worriedly, fading rage clear as day in her eyes.

“I’m just getting another drink,” Zeetha said with a squeeze to her shoulder. Olga didn’t look convinced but that _was_ what Zeetha was planning on doing.

She turned and left. Osker noticed her go and shouted at her back, “hey, hey get me another pint will you!” Zeetha gritted her teeth and tried to ignore him as a faded smack sounded over the polka music.

Feeling a bit petty Zeetha ordered two drinks with little plan to share. When the barmaid asks what size she just grumbled the biggest they had.

“Right den love, two Jäger size, on de double.”

Zeetha turned around as she waited and looked out over the bar. She had been feeling pretty okay when they arrived, tired but okay, but she should have known as soon as she saw Osker was with them that it wouldn’t last. His words rang in her head. Even though she had heard them a hundred times before, tonight they dug in a little harder than usual as she tried to bat them away. She knew Skifander was real, who cared if pretty much nobody else did.

Zeetha dug a palm into her eyes. The bar was loud, cheerful, but loud, and her chest tightened more. The music was all wrong but drinking and boasting and laughing hummed through the air like a discordant song. Looking up in a vague attempt to find Olga—any familiar face, Zeetha was distracted as a table in the corner burst into motion. A tankard flew, then a chair, then a body. A crowd soon formed, the clink of money being exchanged. It was different, it was _so_ different, but oh did her stomach twist.

“Here you go, love.” The barmaid returned with two enormous mugs the size of a head and decorated with ghoulish faces in her hands. One of them was skull like and a pang of want stole her voice. Zeetha reached for them automatically and nearly dropped them. She cursed as she realized her hands were shaking, and at noticing the concerned glint in the barmaid’s eyes turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.

That was a mistake. People surrounded her as a new song played and Zeetha felt her throat close up and her head pound. She needed to… she needed to… she had too—

 

She ended up in a basement. She really couldn’t remember how she got there.

She would have been more concerned about that if she hadn’t gulped down half a mug in one go. Her nerves artificially calmed until she couldn’t care less about anything, let alone skulls and a desperate want of a mother’s arms.

She could still hear the muffled hum of voices and music through the stone; it wouldn’t be hard to make her way back up. And hidden as she was between barrels she figured she was unlikely to be found as well. It certainly was quieter than the streets, and far less crowded. Or so she reasoned as she took another gulp, calmed but frustrated—embarrassed, angry and tired.

She drank for a while—albeit slower—sipping as she stared gloomily into the darkness, until suddenly the darkness shifted and with a blurry blink Zeetha realized someone was in front of her.

Someone _very_ big and _very_ angry was in front of her.

“ _Vot_ are hyu doink _here?_ ”

Zeetha just blinked up over her half-filled cup at the large woman. Even through blurry eyes she could say she had never seen makeup that well done.

“Vell?” She snapped.

Zeetha jumped, reality hitting, and glanced down at the half-empty mug in one hand and the empty one at her feet. She glanced back up and the world swayed. “I… didn’t want to steal your mugs,” she admitted as a surprising truth—she hadn’t even realized. Her voice was steady, slur free, but she rocked in place.

“Zo hyu came _here_?”

“…It got loud,” Zeetha admitted without thought as she stared at the dim light reflecting off her beer. “I…” she trailed off. Sluggishly her mind recounted what had happened that day and to her dismay her lip began to twitch. That realization only made it twitch harder. Scowling she gulped down another gulp.

She looked back up and the lady was gone. Zeetha gaped at where she had been and allowed her head to fall back against a barrel as she stared. That had… been _real_ right? No it _had_ to have been. She hadn’t hallucinated from drinking since she was seventeen and it had never been _visual._

But, but, but—

“‘Ere, drink op dis.”

Zeetha jumped, her beer splashing over her lap. To her side stood the big lady, one hand on her hip, a large glass in the other. Zeetha stared owlishly up at her and the woman sighed. “It’s _vater_ , it’s _goot_ for hyu. Drink it op, _all_ uv it,” she demanded.

“…Not actually that drunk… but thanks,” Zeetha responded as she carefully took the glass. She was pleased to find her hands steady. After a small sip she frowned. “But why?”

The woman snorted as she took an unexpectedly dainty seat on a small barrel across from her. “Hyu are harmless.”

Zeetha choked on her drink. The woman laughed.

“Vat? Hyu are ‘ere becawse hyu vere vorried uv stealink _mugs_ ,” she reminded. Zeetha grumbled into the glass. “Dough Hy suppose dot is not _alvays_ true,” she continued. “Hyu gots sum nize svords.”

Zeetha started again, but then remembered she was still wearing her qu’taras. Nobody had bothered to blink as she walked around with them so she hadn’t bothered to leave them behind.

“Hyu a fightink gurl?”

“Yes,” Zeetha replied bluntly. “A _real_ one.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “Hy neffer says hyu vern’t.”

Face burning Zeetha returned to her glass. The two were quiet for a long moment.

“Hy’m Mamma Gkika,” Mamma introduced. Zeetha glanced up with raised brows. “Yez, dis is _my_ bar. My _mugs_ too. Dank Hyu for not stealink dem, it’s a pain to gets de guy vo makes dem to make more. Alvays gettink distracted, und recently disarmed, likes to hyuse dat as an excuze, silly boy.”

Zeetha blinked at her and tried to pretend she had been able to follow that. How did having been disarmed affect mug making, did he lose his carving knife… She caught herself zoning out as she thought and shook her head slowly refocusing back on Mamma’s face.

Mamma stared back, expression passive.

“I normally avoid drinking when I’m like this,” Zeetha found herself admitting after a long moment. “Ever since— But this time it started when half-way through—”She cut herself off as she realized what she was doing and scowled into space, which accidently also happened to include Mamma’s face.

“Hey, Hy be a hypocrite to chudge,” Mamma shrugged. “Un outs ov a chob if Hy gose around tellink pipples to stop drinkink.” She frowned at her. “Hyu vant to talks about it? Listenink iz practically in de chob description.”

Zeetha glanced away and stared off into the dim shadows of the overlarge basement for a long moment. Then finally she sighed, “You ever hear of Skifander?”

Mamma blinked. “No?”

Zeetha shook her head, her stomach falling even though deep down she had _known_. “ _That’s_ what’s wrong. Nobody has. Anywhere. _Ever_. Nobody even _fucking_ believes it even _fucking_ exists—”

Mamma jumped. Zeetha blinked at her. Then her hand tingled and she blinked down. Her lap was wet, her hand was bleeding. Glass shards glinted red in the dull lantern light.

Reality hit like a pillow thrown by a toddler, barely and not very hard. She figured it probably hurt. “Oh… sorry,” Zeetha murmured.

“Hm, don’t beez, dat glass is made tough, Hy’m impressed,” Mamma said before taking her hand. Zeetha instinctively pulled it away and Mamma rolled her eyes. “Giffs it ‘ere, Hy vill fix it op.” She smiled a secretive smile. “Hy’m pretty goot at dat.”

Zeetha relented, suddenly to tired to really care one way or another. She watched in vague bewilderment as Mamma pulled a roll of bandages from somewhere unknown and then slowly got to work picking out glass with her long claw like nails. The lantern light was near non-existent but Mamma didn’t seem bothered.

“Hy’m guessink Skifander is hyur home.” Zeetha glanced up through her bangs. “Don’t look zo surprised… Hy knows vat it looks like ven pipples are missink a home dey don’t know dey vill effer seez again.” Her voice was wistful. Zeetha flinched.

“Und hyu knows vat Hy tells dem?”

Zeetha didn’t react. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“Hy tells dem all de same ting,” she continued, voice hard. “Hyu _vill_ sees it again. Hyu vill valk in it’s streets and talks vith it’s pipple. Hyu _haff_ to. Uttervise hyu giffs op on all de pipple hyu left behind. Zo hyu _can’t_ giffs op.” Her voice was stern as she tightened the bandage and double checked her work. “Und if hyuse don’t giff op eventually hyu vill gets it back.”

Zeetha stared at her. Her voice was so sure and fierce. Zeetha would almost say she was speaking from experience or something close. She looked away as Mamma glanced back up at her, uncertain how she felt—her stomach turned, from hope, nausea, disbelief, or something else entirely she couldn’t tell. Her brain was too fuzzy for self-introspection.

But still… it was kind of nice… the idea someone understood what it was like even if she had her doubts. Olga did her best but she had no idea, the road was her home. Yeti had no desire to return to the place that had birthed him _or_ the place he had grown up and Embi, who had more strength than she ever would, had long made peace with his life.

“Hyu are probably de best patient Hy’ve had in…” Mamma stopped herself and glanced at the ceiling, “a _very_ lonk time,” she finished. Then she smirked. “Hy schould gets hyu a sveet.”

Zeetha was shocked enough to glare at her. The Countess gave small treats to the children of the Circus when they got checked out so she knew she was being patronized. Mamma cackled.

“Sorry, sorry, Hy couldn’t helps myself, hyu are a ve bit younger den de pipple Hy normally vork on.” She grinned. Zeetha rolled her eyes. She almost let it go. In Europa she had come to learn being called _old_ was the grave insult but still it pricked at her.

“I’m not _that_ young.”

“Really, how old are hyu?”

“Twenty?”

Mamma snorted. “Hyu are practically an infant.”

“Hey!” Zeetha jumped up and while the world swayed a little bit she stood steady. “I’ve been an adult for four _years_!”

Mamma just grinned. “Fair. Feelink bedder?”

Zeetha blinked down at her, if only barely, and realized she was.

She pouted. “…Yes.”

“Goot.”

Zeetha debated storming away from her amused grin, but another dose of spinning barrels ended that quickly. She sat back down. She wasn’t that bothered really. She could tell Mamma had meant no harm, and she was far better company than Osker upstairs if nothing else.

“Tell mes about it.”

Zeetha frowned up at her. “Ah?”

“Hyur home, Skifander vas it?” She tilted her head. “Tell mes about it. Maybe Hy vill haff heard sumting similar.”

Zeetha doubted that, but a warmth bloomed in her chest all the same. It had been a long time since someone she had told had believed her, someone beyond uneducated villagers who couldn’t tell you the name of the second closest city to them at any rate. The last, and only really, had been Olga, Embi and Yeti.

And yet still she found herself at a loss. “It’s… it’s my home. I was raised there. My… mother is there…” She looked away. “I’m not really supposed to talk about it to outsiders. Even giving up its name is borderline… outsiders are not supposed to be able to find it.” And that was really it wasn’t it. Skifander was to hidden, to secretive. Was she even on the right continent, the stars were close anyway, but how would she know for sure.

Four outsiders had been to Skifander in living memory before the exploration team who was long dead, one of them her father. Other than them… if they had kept it a secret as promised… _who?_

They were her only hope really, but she didn’t even know their names. Chump _wasn’t_ a real name.

She had never been more frustrated with her mother then when realizing that.

“I guess that’s it, really,” she muttered out loud. “Nobody knows where it is because of that. Nobody could ever. My language to foreign, nothing but babble to them. My swords and headpiece to other and yet apparently _gaudy_ whatever _that_ means. No wonder nobody believes.” Her stomach swayed uncomfortably, a sign of a coming hangover, and Zeetha rested her head in her hand. “I’m starting to wonder if I believe,” she admitted. “Or if I just made it all up in that fever dream.”

Mamma snorted disdainfully. Zeetha glanced up through her fingers. “What?”

“How could hyu haff a language if it don’t exist?”

“I mean… if only I can understand it… is it _really_ a language—”

“Vat vould be “Hello?”

“What?”

“In hyur language.”

Zeetha blinked. “Rekoi,” she said slowly. “Or Shato…”

“Gootbye.”

“Epi wan… or Ogi or—”

“My name is Mamma”

“Zikrias Mamma… or: Zikrias Kola? …Ko?”

“Hy am a schoopid.”

Zeetha frowned at her. Then smirked. “Zur Lillu—Indim—Da’la…”

Mamma smirked back with a roll of her eyes. “Itz a language, unless hyu tink hyu came op vith a full fake language—hyu vere giffink me options effen— vith meanink all on hyur own vile feffer sick.” She tilted her head with a raised eyebrow. “Or a culture, or memories, how lonk vere hyu sick for to do all _dat_?”

Zeetha blushed and looked down. “I see your point.” She admitted grudgingly, even as some stress left her shoulders.

“Hmph, uv coarse hyu do,” Mamma agreed. “Und de pipple are schoopid, dere are secret societies out de wazzo. Hy bet hyu could dig down right ‘ere und end op in anodder bar or sumting.” She seemed pretty proud of that line. Zeetha gave her a bemused grin. “Paris can’t effen keep track ov de vuns under it. It’s dey vho are de crazy ones to tink it’s zo unlikely. Dey are chust _wrong_.”

Zeetha smile softened but she didn’t respond. Mamma didn’t seem to feel the need to push any further either. Instead she changed the subject. Eventually ending up on recounting the silliest and craziest tourists she had seen, and antics she had to deal with. Zeetha listened quietly, lapping it up, for a little while forgetting the world around her.

 

It was pre-dawn when Zeetha finally left with a promise to stop by the next time they were in town. The air was still a little chilly despite summer quickly approaching and Zeetha paused to enjoy it.

“Zeetha!” A voice called from behind her. Zeetha winced slightly. She hadn’t meant to abandon Olga at the bar. Whoops.

“Where have you been?” Olga asked as she caught up, hand finding the back of Zeetha’s head with a quick slap. Zeetha let her despite the low but ignorable pounding. “You went to get that drink and _vanished_.”

Zeetha shrugged. “Can you blame me if I wanted to drink away from Osker?”

Olga rolled her eyes. “ _No_ , but you could have _told_ me you left.”

“I didn’t.”

Olga frowned at her.

“Really, I didn’t. I ended up meeting with its owner, Mamma Gkika, and we ended up talking.”

“All night,” Olga asked with a raised eyebrow. She didn’t seem to believe her. Zeetha shrugged.

“Mostly, yeah.”

She rolled her eyes. “You can just say it you know. Just because I’m not into that stuff doesn’t mean you have to skirt around the topic. Believe me I hear it all and more in my tent.”

“Into what—oh, no, really we just talked, though…” Zeetha considered for a moment. “I wouldn’t have been _against_ it.”

“Of _course_ not,” Olga said. “So did she dress up like her girls do?”

“Hmm… no,” Zeetha answered.

“Ah,” Olga smirked. “Not into the monster aesthetic?”

Zeetha didn’t respond. Instead, as Olga switched topics, she looked out over the city in its pre-dawn and wondered for a moment before shaking her head. Everyone had their secrets. She could respect that.

 

Almost a year later Zeetha found herself unable to sleep one night—one week really. Instead she lay on top of the wagon she shared with Yeti and stared at the stars and desperately wished for home. Home—

Home was _real_. It was. _It_ was. She couldn’t make all that up on her own. She knew that. She _did_.

She did…

But this wasn’t working. She was getting nowhere. She would be better off wandering around the Wastelands alone.

But… she had made a promise… and at this point what did three more months mean anyway. Maybe she would get lucky.

Zeetha snorted at that idea and stood, brushing the rope of tangled hair over her shoulder. Yeah right, like that was going to happen.

But a promise was a promise.

**Author's Note:**

> Skiff Translations:
> 
> Rekoi : To greet/ hello/ greetings/ hail.  
> Shato: To call (for something), to yell, to attract attention. Slang: hello.  
> Epi wan: “Do live” aka Stay Alive (Until next time).  
> Ogi: Be vigilant (used as a goodbye sometimes).  
> Zikrias’or Mamma: My name is Mamma.  
>     Zikru: Name, label, designation/ to name, label, Slang: call;  
>     -ias Genitive case, used both for of and my.  
> Kola: Mother;  
> Ko: Mom/mamma/mommy.  
> Zur Lillu/Indim/Da’la: “you are stupid."  
>     Zur; You (subject);  
>     Lillu: Idiot, stupid (mild);  
>     Indim: Dork, moron (mildest) often used fondly;  
>     Da’la: Slang, “Very simple” Idiot, slow, mistake prone, Mentally Challenged (I’m not gunna pretend Skifander doesn’t have its problems). (Not so mild)
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed! I'm actually thinking of taking this idea and turning it in Au territory, since the idea of Zeetha and the Jager having a relationship before meeting Agatha intrigues me. I'm also debating making a non-canon complaint oneshot with Zeetha meeting Violetta, since she was in the crowd, though I'm not sure there is really much to go with there. Mixing the two could be fun as well.
> 
> I may also write a sequel or two, adding onto this. Zeetha and using this knowledge regarding the Boyz and their antics, and Zeetha and Mamma before Gil wakes up.
> 
> Also to be clear, I'm totally headcanoning Olga as Aro/Ace because I can and have really come to like writing her. So I may be doing more with her in the future.


End file.
